Mere Seconds
by Lawral
Summary: Sometimes your life can change in mere seconds.
1. Chapter 1

Mere Seconds  
>Author: Lawral<br>Rating: FR18  
>Pairing: McGeeZiva  
>Summary: Sometimes your life can change in mere seconds.<br>Warning: Spoilers for Season 9  
>Author Note: This story was requested by Rory on . We threw some ideas around: taking some of his, some of mine and compromising on others. Takes place after Tim and Abby stop seeing each other in Season 1. Enjoy!<p>

* * *

><p>December, a time when there should be snow in the air, cold wind numbing your nose and people rushing about to find those last minute holiday gifts. This year Timothy McGee was surrounded by none of those things. He would be spending his holidays, not with his family in Indiana, but with strangers in Tel-Aviv, Israel. Sarah had been less than thrilled to learn that her brother was flaking out on possibly reconnecting with their father over a family meal. It had been months since Tim had been home and she was feeling the stress of being a neutral party between her two male family members. Their mother had also been trying to work her husband into accepting their son's career choice; it was still part of the Navy, despite not being the actual Navy.<p>

Tim hoisted his bag further up his shoulder as he descended the transport plane. It was a quiet little airstrip with what looked like an aluminum shelter as its only cover from the sun. Thankfully, he didn't have to go that far. A car was waiting for him just at the edge of the air field. A tall man stood with his hands clasped behind his back and a scowl on his face. The rookie agent wasn't exactly sure if he was trying to shield his eyes from the sun or displaying his distaste for an American agent being his precious cargo for the Director.

"Uh, hello." Tim said as he walked up to the man. "I'm Special Agent Timothy McGee with-"

"I know who you are," The man intercepted. "Deputy Director David has been waiting your arrival."

The man turned on his heal and pried open the driver side door of the dark Sedan. Tim quickly followed the man, fumbling slightly as he knocked his hip against the trunk of the car in his haste and slid into the passenger seat with his bag between his knees.

"It's kind of nice here." Tim said, attempting some neutral conversation. "Back home it would be freezing and rumors of snow would be floating around."

The Mossad officer didn't even turn to acknowledge he'd heard Tim speak. His eyes were trained on the road they were driving. Feeling the tension in the small vehicle, Tim decided to remain quiet for the duration of their drive.

Tim had been sent to Mossad on loan for a week. Out of all the agents, Director Morrow had recommended him for the task of setting up some advanced computer and telecommunication networks to link Mossad directly to NCIS HQ in DC. Being only one of a few agents at the Norfolk Base, his assignment had been met with mixed opinions by his coworkers. Some saw it as a great opportunity for the green agent while others saw it as longer hours to fill the empty space his absence would bring.

He was jostled awake, having not realized he'd fallen asleep, as the car braked hard and stopped outside a rather large home. He looked up at the white exterior as he opened the door to climb out. Tim hadn't been sure what to expect when he came to Israel but he couldn't deny the beauty he'd seen since his arrival. His eye caught movement in an upstairs window; a woman with long dark hair was looking down on him. Instantly he found himself captivated by her. Her hair was loose, hanging around her face, and the sun caught the side of her tanned neck as she turned to the side and spoke in a native language.

"Come," The man said as he passed by McGee and started up the steps.

Tim's attention was diverted as he watched the retreating back of the stiff officer. His gaze rose once more to the window and felt disappointment slide over his chest when he found the window empty. Perhaps the jet lag he felt was playing tricks with him and there hadn't been anyone in the window after all.

The inside of the home was just as magnificent as the officer led McGee up a flight of stairs and down a hallway. He only knocked on the door a single time before opening the door and walking inside. The man spoke to a figure behind a desk in a tongue that Tim didn't understand.

"Azov Oti." Tim watched as the man beside him turned and left through the door once more. "So, you are the computer kid?"

"Yes sir," Tim said nervously. "Special Agent Timothy McGee, sir."

The gentleman behind the desk finally lifted his head and made eye contact with the young American agent. Tim took in the aged features of the man's face and the silver-white hair that reminded him of Agent Gibbs. He had leaned back in his chair and was studying the American. Finally a brief smile etched across his face and he rose to his feet, holding out his hand.

"I am Eli David." Tim shook his hand and then sat in the offered chair. "Director Morrow has told me great things of your computer skills. I presume your task here should be easy work?"

"Yes, sir. It's a simple connection with the-" Tim knew that bored, confused expression and changed course. "Yes, sir. Shouldn't take more than a couple days to get everything operational."

"Excellent," Eli said, picking up his pen and returning his focus to the papers on his desk. "You will be staying in west wing. I shall have my daughter call you for dinner."

Tim climbed to his feet and excused himself. He had no idea where the man was sending him but as he closed the door behind him an elderly woman approached him.

"Shalom. You are the American?" Tim nodded his head. "With me, please. I will show you to your quarters."

Tim followed the woman through the corridors of the large home trying to count how many turns they had taken and which flight of stairs they had climbed. Finally she stopped outside a plain white door and opened it. She waited as he entered the room and she spoke once more.

"Miss David will get you for dinner; three hours time." She smiled and then closed the door.

Tim walked further into the room as he was left alone. It wasn't large but not exactly small either. Staff quarters were relatively nice; it was about the size of his living room back in Norfolk. He threw his bag down onto the overstuffed brown chair and stood at the foot of the bed. It looked so comfortable after his long flight. The soft duvet seemed to be screaming at him with promises of relaxation and sleep. Tim found himself falling forward into the white fabric face first with a stifled moan. The comforter didn't disappoint as Tim turned his head to the side and closed his eyes. He could lay here for a few moments before changing into something slightly cooler.

The room is dark when a sudden knocking sounds at his door. He hadn't remembered falling asleep but given the time difference he wasn't surprised that sleep had taken hold of him. Another jab of knuckles on wood made his body jerk again.

"Yeah, hold on." McGee said as he got back to his feet.

He opened the door to see the woman from the window. She smiled as she took in his appearance of rumpled clothing and messy hair. Whatever her expression had been before he opened the door he saw it melting away in the short seconds that passed.

"My father has sent me to get you for dinner." The woman said.

Tim blinked, as he too had been staring at her. "Uh," He looked down to his attire. "Could you excuse me for just one moment?"

The woman clasps her hands together and took a step back from the door. "Of course." The door closed once more and she heard muffled sounds from inside. He wasn't anything like what she'd imagined when her father had said that the Americans were sending a computer-tech agent to set up communications. The man she'd just met was rather handsome, in a boyish kind of way. She heard him yell out from inside the room followed by a muffled crash. A laugh couldn't be contained as the door suddenly opened once more.

"Sorry," He blushed. His hair had been freshly combed and he'd removed his blazer and redid his tie. She could instantly deduce that he was a new agent to the ranks of NCIS. He passed by her as he exited the room and she could pick up the smell of fresh cologne he'd added.

"I'm Tim. McGee." He rolled his eyes at himself; he'd never been good at talking to women. He'd been surprised that he and Abby had dated for as long as they had. "You're, uh, you're Director David's daughter?"

"Deputy Director," She corrected. "Yes, my name is Ziva."

He wasn't even paying attention to the layout of the house as they walked. Tony would probably make some joke about his lack of swagger with beautiful women; Ziva was beautiful and it, alone, intimidated him.

"So you are the computer turd?" Ziva asked as they rounded another corner. Tim stopped suddenly and looked at her with a slight pained expression. He'd been called many things in his years but this was completely new.

Ziva turned when she noticed that her companion was no longer at her side. She saw the hurt stretched across his face and mentally smacked her. Her use of American slang had always seemed to get her in trouble. Jenny had mentioned that maybe she buy a book on the subject before she ever planned a trip to the States.

"Was that wrong?" Ziva asked. "You know, the people with the goofy glasses and suspenders? What is it?"

"You mean, nerd?" Tim asked with a slight laugh.

"Yes!" Ziva pointed at him suddenly. She smiled in response to the one that replaced the sadness on his face. "I apologize if I upset you; your American expressions are a little foreign to me."

Tim started walking with her again as they descended a flight of stairs that brought them to ground level. Somewhere to his right he could smell the aroma of food and felt his stomach grumble in anticipation. "I've been called worse."

The dining room was different from the rest of the house. It was still something of a spectacle with hard wood floors and a long narrow table. Eli David was already sitting at the very front with two place settings on either side of him. Ziva entered the room and strode to her father's side.

"Papa," She said in greeting as she bent and kissed his cheek.

Tim also approached the gentleman and greeted him, "Sir." The two sit across from each other as three house-maids bring in plates of food and set in front of each person. Tim looks slightly uncomfortable by the display but remains quiet.

"Ah, Agent McGee. I see you have met my Ziva." Eli smiled to his daughter.

"Yes, sir." Tim grinned as he watched her fold her hands and mumble in Hebrew. Eli also had his hands folded and Tim instantly lowered his head until the rattling of silverware announced the end of the prayer.

The meal was generally quiet. Tim was used to silence except for the occasional question about the days events but Eli hardly looked at his daughter once during the meal. The maids returned to collect their plates and served Ziva and McGee some sort of pudding while giving Eli only a cup of coffee. Eli pulled out a pipe from his chest pocket and lit it, blowing out a puff of smoke.

"Papa," Ziva said and glanced toward Tim.

Eli looked from his daughter to the man next to him. He held out the pipe and spoke, "You do not mind, do you Agent McGee?"

Tim held his hand up and smiled with a slight cough. "No, sir."

"Mm," Eli said as he drew another long drawl from the pipe. "I regret that I shall not be here to oversee your work. I got a call and will be leaving for France. Ziva, here, will stay while you work on the communication link."

Tim watched as the father and daughter had a hushed conversation in Hebrew. It appeared that they were arguing without actual yelling. Suddenly Ziva became quiet and glared down at her dessert. Eli rose to his feet and left the room without another word. He turned his attention back to the woman sitting across from him and could tell that she was trying to calm herself; her shoulders were lifting and falling in time with her breathing and the muscle in the side of her neck was tense.

"Are- are you alright?" Tim asked as he leaned forward into the table.

She looked up to him and smiled something more genuine. Picking up her napkin and setting it on the side of her dish she got to her feet.

"How about a drink, Agent McGee?"

"Uh, sure." He started to pile his dishes together and rose to his feet. "Which way is the kitchen?"

"You do not need to do that." Ziva said suddenly. "The staff with collect-"

McGee interrupted her but couldn't help the slight pink tint that rose to his cheeks. "I don't wish to overstep but I'd rather do it myself. Your father has already done more than expected by letting me stay here, the least I can do is clean up after myself."

Ziva narrowed her eyes toward him, thinking about his words. She'd never met an acquaintance of her father's who didn't take advantage of the house staff. Most of the time, she would eat slower so as to help the kitchen staff with clean-up; it was something her father had never understood but he did enjoy the dishes the chef had taught his daughter. Tim watched as Ziva picked up her own dishes and those of her father before leading Tim through the small wooden door behind the seat her father had vacated.

The kitchen staff had consisted of a chef, who was now kneading dough, and a woman who was slaving over a large suds-filled sink. Ziva greeted them with a smile and kissed the cheek of the woman as she set her dishes on the counter.

"Frieda, Maks," Ziva said to gain their attention. "This is Agent McGee from America."

"Tim," He said with a smile. "Tim is fine."

Ziva smirked and corrected herself. "Tim, this is Frieda and Maks, who is a wonderful chef."

Tim held out his hand to shake with the man before realizing that the chef wasn't able to touch him. "Uh, that meal was delicious. I especially enjoyed that, uh, casserole thing. It was amazing."

"Toda, Mr. Tim, but I am unable to take credit. That dish was our lovely Miss David's." Maks told him, looking to Ziva with a twinkle in his eye.

Instantly Ziva clasp her hands together and looked up to Tim again. "So, drinks?"

* * *

><p>An hour later, Tim found himself wedged into a very small booth in a musty smelling bar. The drink in front of him was nearly gone as was the beer cradled in Ziva's hands. He couldn't understand a word anyone was saying and he was rather uncomfortable by the looks of a couple heavy-set men seated at the deteriorating bar; paying for the drinks had been a slight challenge also.<p>

"This is your favorite place to drink?" McGee asked with a hint of nervousness.

"Yes," Ziva confirmed.

"You aren't… immune to the fact that you are the only female here, right?"

Ziva looked around the room and the countless faces that instantly turned away from her gaze. "I am fully aware, Tim. You see the man at the end of the bar there?" Ziva motioned her head as her attention returned to her companion. "He has spread the word about not bothering me."

"Why is that?" Tim asked as the man looked up to him and shook his head warningly.

"I believe it was a broken wrist," Ziva said calmly. "Or maybe the bloody nose."

She smiled as if remembering a fond memory. Tim looked up to the man again as he kept throwing glances their way. "You did all that to him? Why?"

"He wanted to buy me a drink."


	2. Chapter 2

Tim sat at the setup he'd created in Eli's office and patched himself into the central mainframe of the Mossad database. Despite the use of an alternate operating system, McGee was able to weave his way through the mangle of operations. The communication link was seemingly routine and he was just about to complete the assignment after only one day.

"You have been working for hours."

Tim looked up to Ziva leaning against the doorframe. He smiled as she clasps her hands behind her back and lightly kicked the frame with her foot. Tim still couldn't help but to be mesmerized by her; she was beautiful with a slight dangerous side.

"What are you thinking, Tim?

Tim straightened slightly as he glanced back to the computer in front of him. A few more key strokes and then he'd call his doppelganger back in DC to check the link. Of course, then he might be shipped back to the US; that thought made him feel awful at how fast he'd worked.

"Just wondering if perhaps I should take that guy's advice." Tim laughed. "He stopped me when we were leaving the other night. Told me I should be careful. Apparently guys don't do so well with you."

Ziva shrugged, "Depends on the guy."

Tim smiled again and instantly attempted to cover his nervousness. He cleared his throat and pointed toward the machine. "This should be nearly done. I just have to call Special Agent Wright in the morning and have him check the link on the DC side."

He glanced up to see Ziva shift off of the doorframe and start walking toward him. She leaned against the window frame behind McGee. "Uh, I also increased your father's, um, speed and memory on the hard drive."

"You did not have to do that. You are already doing enough-"

"It's just a thank you for allowing me into your home."

"It is more of a dwelling. It has not been much of a home since my mother and sister died."

"Oh," Tim said and turned to look up at her. "Sorry to hear about that."

"It was a long time ago." Ziva shrugged. "My brother visits on occasion but my father has him working so much that our communications are limited to secure emails and phone calls."

"That doesn't sound like very much fun." Tim said. "As much as she torments me, I don't think I could go long without at least talking to my little sister."

"You only have one sister?"

"Yeah, uh, Sarah. She's- she was kind of a surprise to my parents." Tim laughed.

"Tali as well." Ziva smiled, thinking of her younger sibling.

Silence fell over the pair as they simply studied one another. He watched as she crossed her ankles and looked down to the floor, crossing her arms over her chest. Tim glanced down and brushed some non-existent lint from his thighs; this allowed Ziva a change to sneak a peak at him.

"You have not left this room for hours. Did you even stop for lunch?" Ziva asked.

"Yes," Tim said, receiving a look of disbelief. "Well, I- I mean I had a Nutter Butter."

Ziva shook her head slowly before pushing herself away from the window sill and held her hand out. "Come on. We are going out."

"Out?" Tim asked, not moving.

"Yes, out. I will show you a little bit of Israel." Ziva said, shaking her hand a little.

Tim swallowed the nervousness and fear as he took her hand and climbed to his feet. The electricity he felt in his hand ran the length of his body and brought a slight pink tint to his cheeks. Ziva had smiled as she pulled Tim from behind her father's desk and out into the halls of the house. She chuckled as he nearly tripped over the rug in the hall, catching him before he tumbled down the staircase.

* * *

><p>"I can't believe your secret hiding spot was the college library." Tim laughed as they were seated in an outdoor dining area.<p>

Ziva smiled lightly as Tim waited for her to sit before he lowered himself into the chair opposite her. She'd decided that he must have been raised by grandparents or strict parents. He was a gentleman in every sense of the word; the first time he'd held the door open for her hadn't even registered in her mind until he opened the car door when they left the library.

"Well, my father would have never thought to look for me in a college library. Especially when I was too young to be a student." Ziva confessed.

"What would you do? I mean, those books are too advanced for a young kid."

"I did nothing, really. I would either bring my own book or just go around picking up abandoned books and taking them to the Librarian. Some of the students would sneak in treats and give me some." Ziva smiled. "My father was always busy with my brother and Mother was fussing over my baby sister. They rarely noticed when I was gone until dinner time."

Tim lowered the menu he was looking at and glanced to her. It didn't seem to bother her how sad it sounded; her parents had basically forgotten her in lieu of her siblings. Tim had always heard that being a middle child was rather difficult but he had never experienced it.

"I suppose how overbearing my father was could actually have been a good thing. I had always wished he'd allow me to blend in with the couch cushions but he needed status reports on my daily routine. Being ignored doesn't sound too pleasing either."

Ziva shrugged a single shoulder as the server returned to their table. "It gave me time to appreciate how important family time was."

The pair ordered drinks and once again surveyed the menu in front of them. Thankfully, the menu was also written in English and some of the dishes sounded fantastic. Tim looked at two different dishes, trying to decide which to try, when Ziva closed her menu and laid her chin on her hands.

"Find anything good, Tim?"

Tim nodded his head. "A few things actually." He glanced up to her over his menu and smiled.

A single eyebrow arched as Ziva smirked. "Is that so?"

Realizing what she must have thought, words started to tumble out of his mouth at random speeds causing them to bump into one another and leaving a sentence that would have confused Einstein. He stopped, inhaled deeply and tried again.

"I meant the Lamb Fricassee or the-" Tim started.

"They have very good lamb here." Ziva replied.

Tim stopped and folded his menu, placing it next to hers. "Well that settles it then."

An hour later Tim pushed the plate away with a soft groan. The bottle of wine that Ziva had insisted on was sitting next to her elbow and nearly empty. She had also pushed her plate away, laying her napkin next to the white dish. Ziva watched as he wiped his mouth with the napkin and then reached for his wallet.

"No-"

He looked up at her instantly. She had reached her hand out and set it atop his attempting to stop his actions; the tingles in his hand exploded once more and he saw her look down to their hands as if she felt the vibrations as well.

"I was taught to always pay for a lady's meal." Tim commented.

Neither said another word as the waitress returned and collected their bill and Tim's credit card. Ziva continued to watch him while he nervously looked anywhere but at her. For some unknown reason the passerby's were interesting to Tim McGee.

"There is another reason I brought you here, Tim." Ziva said.

Tim looked up to her, attempting to calm his nerves again. He could have been reading her wrong but he was not used to beautiful women taking interest in him. "Really?"

"It is beautiful, yes?" Ziva said as she looked over to the beach.

The night was cool but there were still several people walking along the sidewalks that edged the beach adjacent to the bistro. Salt air and the sound of the waves hitting the sand had the most calming effect and Tim was surprised that he hadn't noticed them in the time they'd spent eating dinner.

"I come here every morning to run. The morning sun is the most incredible view I've seen, and I have seen a few from all parts of the world. It is different here though."

"This is your home. Of course the sunrise would hold a different meaning here." Tim spoke.

The waitress returned with the leather folder and Tim signed for their meal, leaving a $10 tip as well. "Come take a walk with me, Tim. The beach is just as beautiful at night as it is in the day."

McGee smiled and got to his feet. Ziva also climbed out of the chair and smiled as he accepted her invitation. She hooked her hand around his elbow and grinned as she felt him tense slightly and look down to his arm. So as to not embarrass him further, Ziva kept her eye trained on their destination.

"Tell me something, Tim." Ziva said. "What brought you to NCIS?"

McGee sighed heavily. It had always been a question he despised; only his family had ever come out and openly asked the question. Sure, he'd heard whispers from coworkers wondering the same thing, especially after learning his educational background. To him it seemed like a reasonable answer but no one ever understood it, namely his father.

"I was always good with computers and electronics but I dreamed of being a police officer. I figured it was a good choice; computers are more and more depended on in the field so it wasn't much of a stretch." Tim told her. "My father was a Navy Admiral and when I told him I wanted to be a cop, he sort of laughed it off. He always wanted me to go into the military like he did. When I heard about NCIS I thought that maybe I could follow my dream but also make him proud as well."

"Did it work?"

"Well, no." Tim said softly. "I haven't spoken to him since I graduated FLETC. My sister and my mom try to get him to talk to me but it's like I've become the black sheep."

"Ah, yes." Ziva nodded. "Father's do have a knack for making their children's lives unbearable sometimes."

"Your father seems to love you." Tim observed.

"As long as I keep my mouth shut and do what he says," Ziva countered. "He raised me to shoot first and ask questions later."

Tim swallowed as they continued down the pathway. A few couples past by them with their arms wrapped around each other or holding hands and huddled together in blissful oblivion. Next to him, Ziva had gotten quiet after her confession.

"You've killed people?"

Ziva nodded her head. "I have killed dozens; many of which I didn't even know their names."

"That doesn't bother you?" Tim asked incredulously.

"Not anymore," Ziva stated. "Though I will tell you a secret."

Ziva lowered her hand as they stopped and Tim turned toward her. As Tim waited for Ziva to continue a woman walked past them with a small dog and had to wrestle with the leash to untangle from around their legs.

"Ziva?" Tim asked after a full minute of silence.

"The first person my father sent me to kill was an easy mark. Though it wasn't as easy then. I was nineteen and after the mission was completed, I went back to the library and ended up crying in one of the back corners."

Tim paused for a moment trying to imagine the woman in front of him actually taking the life of another human being. There was a tear in her right eye at the memory and Tim found himself reaching for her. He pulled her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her; Ziva tensed slightly before relaxing slightly and allowing him to console her.

"Come, it is getting late and a bit cold." Ziva laughed, trying to cover the uncomfortable memory.

* * *

><p>The pair strode up the steps to the third floor of the house. Even after three days in the place, Tim<br>still had trouble finding the room in which he stayed; Ziva normally walked with him which gained numerous amused glances from Frieda.

Tonight was more of the same. Tim and Ziva had walked into the home with somber gazes and marched up the steps while Frieda and Maks whispered quietly to one another. They walked up to the third floor and made it to the hallway that would lead Tim to his room. She smiled lightly as they walked.

"I am sorry for upsetting you earlier." Ziva said.

"You didn't upset me. I- I thought that you were…" Tim stopped. "Sorry, I misunderstood."

"Misunderstood?" She asked as they came to the hall that housed the staff quarters.

"I thought that you were upset about-" Tim shuffled his feet and stuck his hands into his pockets. "You know what, forget it."

"I will not forget it." Ziva claimed. "It was rather sweet; unnecessary but very sweet."

Silence fell over them again and Tim quickly returned to his nervous self. His hands came loose from his pants pockets and he was slowly wiping them against his leg. She smiled at how discrete he was trying to be; never before had a nervous guy standing in front of her been so adorable.

"I guess I should be going. This time difference is really going to screw me over when I get back home."

Ziva smiled. "Tim, contrary to some beliefs, I am not really the type to kiss on a first date."

The movements of his hands increased as he started to stumble over his words once more. "No, I-I wasn't insinuating-"

"But," Ziva continued. "I think, tonight, I will allow it."

"What?" Tim asked sheepishly.

Ziva smiled lightly and inched toward him; drawing up onto her toes, her hands clung to the fabric of his jacket as she kissed him. It took a moment before Tim realized what was happening and another moment for him to respond. The two sides of his mind were at war with one another. Here he was in another man's home, kissing the man's only daughter; the incredibly beautiful daughter who had captured his gaze upon sight.

Ziva drew back after another few moments, trailing her hands down his jacket and smiling lightly. "Goodnight, Tim."

"Uh," He stumbled as he watched her walk away from him. "Go-goodnight. Ziva."


End file.
